I woke up sleepy today, and the sleepy wouldn't leave. Neither would the general grouchiness. It could have been the fact that today I was slated to start the unit on the godforsaken research paper. Oh and I should mention I've just collected essays on the novel we just finished, Their Eyes Were Watching God. Such is the blasted life of an English teacher. Collect and grade one set of essays while another promptly presents itself on deck. Damn malarkey is what it is.
With a stack of more-likely-than-not piss poor essays, I hobbled down to the lounge to grade (I'm still freakishly sore from the five mile run on Sunday). My colleague and fast-growing buddy, Z, was there grading as well. From time to time we exchanged funny sentences we came across, laughing at the inaccuracies while wondering how in the hell they came up with such crap. It certainly wasn't our fault!
At some point I started dreaming aloud how I wished at that very moment I could morph into Carrie Bradshaw. Never mind that Bradshaw is a fictional character, in that moment sitting in the grungy lounge with the water-stained ceiling tiles, the seven hundred year-old fridge, and the rickety chairs, I wanted Carrie's life. How lovely would it be to wake whenever your eyes opened knowing you had nowhere you needed to be other than wherever it was you wanted to be? I wanted to be sitting in some small but chic apartment with a MacBook open, my fingers click-clacking against the keys. I wanted a mug of some kind of delicious coffee to grab and sip at my whim, a stack of Better Homes and Gardens on the shelf behind me, and maybe - since this was a fantasy, a cigarette smoldering in a vintage ashtray. My day would be filled with leisurely writing, lunch with friends, a trip to a local farmer's market for some fresh veggies and produce, and an evening spent hanging with Olive and Big Red. I'm exchanging Aiden and Big for these two.
...or my Paul Frank pj pants, the grey Guinness sweatshirt, our lovely chocolate brown sectional and some HGTV would have sufficed.